


My Fossil is Bright in the Sun

by allisonbucky



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Dark Past, Friends after break up, Gen, Healing, Healing Through Religion, Jewish Even, Judaism, Longing, M/M, Other, Post-Break Up, Recovery, Spoiler: They stay broken up, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, spirituality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 22:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17610227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisonbucky/pseuds/allisonbucky
Summary: Even lost himself, ran away from everything and everyone he ever knew, and found religion and some peace.He happened to leave Isak behind in the process. Two years later, Even comes back to Norway, and he has to visit the man he once loved.---Set after Even and Isak break up.(Title from John my Beloved by Sufjan Stevens)





	My Fossil is Bright in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I once saw a post that, at the darkest time of my life, may had saved me. It said something to the affect of - before you kill yourself, have you tried running away? moving country? shaving your head? changing your name? spending all your money? going sky diving? getting arrested? Doing literally whatever you want?  
> Because sometimes when there looks like there is no way out, you just gotta do something drastic. I.e. Everything is reversible, except from death.  
> \---  
> Some notes:
> 
> *I am an orthodox Jew living in Israel, and by no means a halachic authority. Don't take any advice on Jewish practise from this fic. Largely based on my own practise and experience.  
> *I chose to make Even Jewish bc I felt like it. But I can see it, because coming from a place with a big Muslim population and very few Jewish people, most of my childhood friends were Muslim bc Solidarity.  
> *I chose to include addiction in this AU because it's a common co-morbid disorder with Bipolar. It's a reality so many struggle with. 
> 
> This will be a chaptered fic over the 2 days of Even's visit to Isak. 
> 
> TW: addiction, suicide, depression, mania. Will add tags as relevant.

_For their final three months together, their relationship had been in a terminal state, and it had almost seemed that Even had been, too. Days would go by where he didn’t sleep, where all he consumed were drugs, coffee and booze. Mania was starting to mix with addiction, and for the first time, Even had slowly but surely started giving up on himself._

_Isak really thought Even was going to die. He had spiralled, he was refusing treatment, was bouncing from jail to hospital to his dealers’ to his parents to Isaks (their place?), unable to stay in one place too long. After his third self-discharge from the hospital in 2 weeks, they had said they couldn’t admit him anymore unless he was an immediate danger to himself or others, or until he voluntarily signed himself in._

_That last month, Isak saw him once every 4 or 5 days, when he would come to his door at some insane hour, tweaked out and sobbing. The drugs had pushed him into a mixed state of mania and depression, and Isak just couldn’t take it anymore. He let Even back into his life over and over again, but one day, he didn’t. He still remembers the interaction in the threshold of his door._

 

_It was 3AM, and Isak woke up like clockwork, almost expecting the banging on his door. He lay there for a few moments, and the banging got louder and louder, more and more frantic. He was still laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when he heard the sobs start outside his door._

_The same thing had happened 6 days before, and Isak had spent the night before his exam in the bathroom as Even threw up everything he had, sobbing uncontrollably that he just wanted to die. At around 10am he finally had passed out, and Isak all but bribed a Jonas who was so beyond done with the situation to sit in his apartment so he could go and fail his exam. (And fail he did.)_

_But when he got home and saw Even was still sleeping, (still breathing), he didn’t even care._

 

 _“How was the test?” Jonas had asked over a coffee on the floor of his tiny kitchen. He didn’t think any level of noise could wake Even up at this point, but Jonas muttered that he ‘couldn’t bare looking at him much longer.’_ _Isak tried to lie that it went fine, but he couldn’t bring himself to._

_Jonas had just shook his head._

_“This has to fucking stop, Is. You’re not a fucking carer, and you’re not helping him. You’re enabling him, you know that? This is just going to keep happening until one day he doesn’t puke out whatever he’s binged on, he fucking overdoses or slits his wrists in your arms. You do know that, right?”_

_And once again, Isak couldn’t lie that he didn’t know that._

 

_So that night, 6 days later, when he finally went to answer the door, he didn’t look Even in the eyes as he told him he couldn’t come in._

_“Baby, I texted your mother. You can’t stay here tonight.”_

_“I - I - I will f-f-fucking die if you don’t let me in, baby. I can’t go home, she hates me so much, please baby, i know, i know that, that- Isak, my mum hates me, she wants to_ kill me _, I just - I need to - I need to see the bed, she will kill me, babe, I need to see our home -_

_Isak cut him off, staring at a space on Even’s forehead, refusing to meet his distant eyes._

_“You’re mum is on her way, Even. She’ll be here in 10 minutes to take you home, babe. Lets go wait for her outside, yeah?”_

 

_And he took an incoherent Even downstairs, sat with him on that fucking bench as he sobbed into his hands._

_Isak had searched the pockets of his - Even’s - jacket, and thankfully found a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and putting his arm around Even’s shoulders, letting him lean on him to cry._

_Isak knew this would be the last time he would hold Even in this way._

 

_He had allowed himself to glance down at Even, really study him. His gaunt frame, his skin a mess, he smelled of sex and sweat and piss and alcohol. His face was white with his cheeks blotchy, under his swollen eyes grey and sunken, with a yellowing bruise on his forehead that Isak thought was from hitting it on the toilet seat last week. He had stubble growing in. The hands that grasped him were scabbed over, dirty from tobacco under his fingernails. Isak closed his eyes, and kissed his boy’s head, letting Even cling onto him stronger. He whispered ‘goodbye’ to him._

_And when two days later Even had nearly ended his life, Isak felt like he had sealed Even’s fate._

_He wasn't quite sure he ever forgave himself._

 

***

 

Isak paced around his room.

Two years. It had been _two years_ since he’d seen Even.

After … Isak had started calling it _The Breakdown_ in his head, after Even was finally, _finally_ , released from hospital, Even had just… left. He had left and never came back. He had a brother who lived in Israel that Isak had met only once before (by a different hospital bed), who had come and taken Even home with him. The family thought that Even needed some space. To get out of Oslo. Away from bad memories.

And that was that.

 

For nearly four months, four agonising, sleepless months, they had had no communication. It had driven Isak insane. He would wake up in a cold sweat every night, sure that his love was dead. Isak and Daniel, Even’s brother, had started talking because he literally was going insane not knowing what was going on.

When Even had finally got in contact with him, it was brief. A few messages, a refusal to call. Nothing but “Hey. I’m sorry for not replying to anything. I’m starting to get better. Decided to stay here a while. Really hope you’re okay. Miss you.”

 

Isak still remembers receiving that text, those fucking 25 words. He couldn’t quite believe that’s all he got after The Breakdown, after the attempt, after having his heart pulled out and stomped on and pulverized, after being left alone to deal with the aftermath… but that’s what he got. And sometimes, he still reread that message. Of course, since that time they’d spoken a bit more - bits and pieces here and there. Just life updates. As if they were childhood friends who lost touch, rather than each others’ entire worlds for years.

 

It still kept him up at night, sometimes, that he didn’t _know_ Even any more. He knew some of the facts - that Even had found spirituality, reconnected to his Jewish roots, become religious. That he had worked in some hippy hiking center in Daniel’s town for a few months, and was now studying in a Jewish college. Or something. Isak had spent a lot of time researching on orthodox Judaism, what Even now somehow identified with. He’d learned a lot about Even’s religion when they’d been together - not that Even had been religious, but he’d always been a believer (or wanted to be one), always needed to know that a higher power had some sort of plan for the shitty hand he’d been dealt. They’d even done the odd tradition, the odd Shabbat dinner, Isak had come to their family Passover and new year’s meals.

It shouldn’t have thrown Isak as much when he found out that Even had found religion to be the path he needed to heal… but for some reason it drove him crazy. (Why wasn’t he enough?)

 

Isak had since moved to Tromso, to the most northern University in the world, as if to get away from everything. Isak had thought to himself, when feeling the immense relief when he was accepted to Tromso, that he could see where Even was coming from, moving to the Middle East. Something about getting away from anyone you’ve ever known, to somewhere far off and almost mystical.

And Even was currently spending hours sitting on a train, on his way to spend a day and a half with him. He knew Even was worried about some logistical stuff - part of his new religious practice came with dietary requirements that Isak couldn’t accommodate. He had sent him an instagram snap of his massive bag of food for the next 2 days (because Even had instagram now, under the Hebrew name Natan. A scarce but beautiful feed filled with ancient Israeli architecture, nature, the odd selfie, Jewish artifacts and practise that Isak couldn’t understand, couldn’t relate to further than seeing Even’s reverence through his camera angle, colour scheme, the captions he chose. It killed Isak when he had to translate the captions from Hebrew. How could even have had time to learn a new _language_ ? Had it really been that _long?_ ) and Even assured Isak that he had made them mac and cheese that he was going to heat in Isak’s non-kosher oven through some complicated trick with tin foil.

 

Isak couldn’t sit still. He had half heartedly asked Even if he could meet him at the airport after his short flight, but Even said he would make his way to Isak’s flat himself. Isak had mildly protested, but he was relieved - he wasn’t sure he could face their reunion in an airport, then having to navigate the 20 minute bus ride and 3 minute walk to his place. He thought, if he knew Even, that he felt the same.

2 hours until his arrival. Isak was vibrating. He could feel the too familiar panic rising in his stomach, up to his chest. He checked his instagram mindlessly, balking when he saw Even posted a story - it was a picture of his unfamiliar (but largely featured on his instagram) prayer book against the backdrop of the snowy landscape, with the caption ‘when you have to daven Mincha on the train because there’s only a 2 hour mincha window #justnorwaythings’. 

Isak knew mincha was the afternoon prayer from his research, that davening was praying, but couldn’t figure out the timing reference. He decided to spend the next 45 minutes or so in a rabbit hole of research of how the structure of daily prayer in Judaism worked. He couldn’t believe how much there was to _learn_ about Even’s practise. After getting so deep down the judaism rabbit hole that his head was spinning, he decided to sit on his window sill and have a small joint. Not a lot, just enough to take the edge off.

He was still wondering how this even _happened_. That Even-now-sometimes-going-by-Natan Bech Naesheim was going to be in his flat in an hour. The former man of his life. He thought back to their text conversation a few weeks before.

 

 

> _Hi isak. How’s things?_
> 
>  
> 
> Hey, they’re good. What’s new with you?
> 
>  
> 
> _Not a lot, still in Jerusalem studying. You?_
> 
>  
> 
> Cool. still in Tromso studying.
> 
>  
> 
> _So nice. I don’t know how I could tolerate the weather up there anymore._
> 
>  
> 
> Haha yeah it’s a challenge…
> 
>  
> 
> _Anyway. So. I’m coming to oslo in a couple of weeks._
> 
>  
> 
> _…_
> 
>  
> 
> _Isak?_
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry. Wow, that’s… when exactly? Why?
> 
>  
> 
> _I just… I need to visit. It’s been long enough_
> 
>  
> 
> _22 feb - 1 march_
> 
>  
> 
> Oh… fuck
> 
>  
> 
> _What?_
> 
>  
> 
> I can’t come down that week.
> 
>  
> 
> Not that… I mean I didn’t mean to assume you’d want to hang out.
> 
>  
> 
> _No, of course I do. I want to see you, isak… I was wondering if, actually, if it’s not too much trouble - if I could come visit you? I can get a hotel and stay overnight?_
> 
>  
> 
> Oh… wow. Um, it’s pretty far? Do you want to come for the weekend?
> 
>  
> 
> Wait. no. shabbat. Sorry
> 
>  
> 
> Would sunday-monday work? I’m not in class mondays
> 
>  
> 
> _Yeah? Are you sure that works for you? I don’t want you to go to trouble…_
> 
>  
> 
> Even. you are offering to fly 2 hours to see me. I can take the morning off of studying. It’s chill.
> 
>  
> 
> And you don’t have to get a hotel… if you don’t want to. I have a super comfy couch.
> 
>  
> 
> But like, if you’d be more comfortable in a hotel, that’s chill too.
> 
>  
> 
> _I’ll let you know. Thanks for the offer._
> 
>  
> 
> _I can’t wait to see you, Isak._
> 
>  
> 
> You too… I don’t have to call you Natan now, do I?
> 
>  
> 
> _You can call me whatever you want._
> 
>  
> 
> _I go by Even half the time here anyway. Just, Israelis think it’s weird, so. It means ‘stone’ in Hebrew, you know._
> 
>  
> 
> _I’m a man of many identities_
> 
>  
> 
> Don’t i know it...
> 
>  
> 
> _...Ha. anyway, got to get back to Torah and stuff. See you soon_
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy the Torah. Say hi to G-d for me
> 
>  
> 
> _Will do_
> 
>  

And that was that. Isak had thought he’d done a pretty good job of seeming chill, even though he was totally hyperventilating on the inside.

Isak had been sitting outside scrolling through his messages for so long he lost track of time (wasn’t that the goal?) when he got the message.

 

 

> _On the bus. FINALLY. Also, i’m SO COLD._

 

Fuck. Isak hastily closed his window, and turned his space heater to full blast. He had forgotten Even had acclimatized to middle eastern weather by now. He could feel himself panicking again, so he quickly straightened up the nonexistent mess and just after he finished peeing -

His buzzer went.

He didn’t think he could handle hearing that voice through the tinny speaker, so he just buzzed him up without saying anything. (Not that he would be able to hear him through the pounding in his ears).

He opened the door.

He heard the elevator door open and closed, heard _that walk_ down the corridor before he rounded the corner, oh fuck, his walk sounds the same, and -

 

And suddenly Even-maybe-Natan Bech Naesheim, former man of his dreams, current dreamboat, was standing in front of him, his face breaking into _that smile_ that isak had fallen in love with more than 5 years ago.

His cheeks were flushed, lips chapped, and he had a grey beanie with a brown tag on the front. His hair was blonder than Isak remembered, with his fringe peeking out the front of his hat and going to his eyebrows, his face rounder and darker. He had filled out a little bit, and his skin had cleared up _so much_ . He was wearing at least 6 layers, and those boots that isak read everyone in Israel wore. (What were they called again?) Isak could see little white and blue strings coming out of where his jacket ended to just below the pockets of his light jeans - _tzit tzit_ , Isak’s mind supplied him - and he was laiden down with a backpack and 2 bags.

 

He looked healthier, lighter, more mature, more of an _adult_ than Isak had ever seen him.

“Halla, Isak,” he said, voice smooth and eyes clear. Isak opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just beckoned him in.

Even’s smile faltered for a second, and isak wondered if he could see slight nerves in Even’s eyes. He put his stuff down, shrugging out of his (outer) jacket and gloves. He busied himself putting stuff down, and Isak finally came to a little bit.

“Halla. You - you look really good. Wow.”

“Thanks. You do too. Nice haircut,” Even said, nodding at Isak’s short but grown out buzz cut, smiling that fucking smile.

Isak instinctively ran his hands through his hair.

“Thanks. It’s a bit grown out, but..”

Even shrugged out of his second jacket and fluffy hoodie, (how was he wearing _so many_ layers?), now just in a cream fitted sweater, with a white t-shirt peaking from underneath. Isak sucked in a breath at how _good_ he looked. Even, too, seemed to be struggling to take his eyes off of Isak. His eyes were soft, and full of light.

He took a small step towards isak.

“It… really suits you.”

“Thanks,” Isak repeated. “You’re tanned.”

“You think? I mean I’m paler than I was in summer, but… yeah, I guess.”

“No, you are. You… you look really, really good, even. Fuck…”

Even smiled softly. “Different from last time, huh?”

Isak laughed a little wetly.

“Fuck. Sorry. I knew… I knew you were doing good, I just…” he could feel himself tearing up.

Even’s smile faded into something more emotional, and he looked down.

To see the Even in front of him that was healthy, clean and _beautiful_ … Isak couldn’t hold himself back any more.

He pulled even into a hug, and squeezed for dear life. He felt Even tense for a moment, as if debating, and then slowly he put his arms around Isak. It took maybe a few moments longer before Even sunk into the hug.

“ _You’re here. You’re alive_ ,” Isak whispered into his neck.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> glossary:
> 
> Halacha - Jewish law
> 
> Mincha - there are 3 daily prayers in Judaism - Shacharit, Mincha and Maariv/Arvit (same thing with different names). Shacharit can be prayed from sunrise until Halachic Midday (halfway between sunrise and sunset), Mincha can be prayed from half an hour after Midday until Sunset, Maariv can be prayed from half an hour after sunset until you go to sleep. In orthodox tradition men are obligated to pray these 3 prayers every day, ideally in a congregation. There are differing opinions on women's obligation, but most authorities say women need to pray Shacharit and Mincha.
> 
> Daven/ing - coloquial yiddish term for praying. Majority of English speaking jews, regardless of origin, use this word because 'praying' has weird christian connotations and the hebrew word is 'mitpallel' which is just a bit wordy and you cant say "I'm mitpallel-ing."
> 
> Tzit Tzit - also known as Tzis Tzis, or Tallit Katan, something that some orthodox Jewish men wear under their clothes. there are 4 corners with 8 strings hanging from each corner. Some have all white and some have one thread of a special type of blue called Techelet amongst each corner. I recommend googling for more info tbh
> 
> Natan - Hebrew name meaning 'gift'
> 
> Comment below if there's anything else not clear!


End file.
